Lullaby For a Bloody Night
by nanase-momotarou
Summary: The Bonnefoy-Kirkland children, Victoria, Matthew, Alfred, Ruby, and Jaune fall into the deepest pits of despair and there's no one to save them. Self-harm. Mature content. ED. Domestic Abuse. Suicide attempts. Bullying.


This is my newest story that I concocted in this messed up head of mine and finally started writing. Yes I know that this chapter is short and I don't know if they'll get longer, but on the bright side, I actually plan to update this on a lot because I actually have ideas for it!

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><p>Disclaimer: I own nothing, only my OC's.<p>

Chapter 1: Bloodstained Angel

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><p>Silverlight snuck through the blinds illuminating the pale white skin of the New Zealander, it would have been picturesque if it were for the circumstances that he was seeing it. Alas his brother had taken his blade from him three months ago so he wouldn't hurt himself again, but he had discovered to location of the blade and craved for its comfort. Thus he snuck into his brother's room an attempt to retrieve his blade and ease some of his pain. So far his plan was working. His brother hadn't woken up and he had his blade, but he knew better than anyone that even now the operation could go downhill. His eyes flickered over to his sleeping brother and scurried over to the door. A relieved sigh slipped past his lips and he tip-toed to the bathroom.<p>

The pale white door loomed in front of him, enticing some more of the deep rooted excitement he knew he could never admit metal doorknob was cold and hard, as it always was, as it turned and the door slowly opened inwards to the bathroom. A shiver ran up his spine as the cool air whooshed out of the bathroom and onto him. A small smile of the sorts formed on his face and he took a step into the bathroom, feeling the cold tile underneath his uncovered feet. A look around the bathroom assured him that nothing was out of place. With that reassurance he closed the door behind him, hands shaken with a sick excitement, and locked it.

His back touched the door and he slowly sunk down to the floor, feeling the tile against his legs. He gave a blissful sigh as he took the clear cover off of his blade. A sick, almost twisted smile, spread on his face as the silver blade glinted in the artificial light created by the fluorescent light above him. He took a deep breath and stared at the blade, free from its confines and begging to be used again.

The first cut on his scar littered thigh released a truckload of stress and he melted into the blissful sensation and and continued making his beautiful disasters down to his knee. With a reluctant sigh and moved over to the medicine cabinet and retrieved disinfectant and gauze. He couldn't leave them out in the open for his family to see, that would put a damper on his whole plan, which was something he couldn't afford at this point. Once his wounds were dressed and bandaged he carefully put his pyjama pants back on and placed his blade back in it's horrible cage until he could use it again. He slid the blade into his pocket and unlocked the door.

As soon as the door opened he was faced by the most dreadfully adorable sight. Outside the door stood his youngest of siblings, Ruby, hands planted firmly on her hips and eyes boring into him, but no matter how hard little Ruby tried she could never stop being the little, adorable girl he had grown accustomed to. "I know what you were doing, Alfie, I ain't as stupid as you seem to think." And with that statement his plan shattered into a million little pieces like glass.

"You're going to tell them aren't you?" Alfred swallowed the lump forming in his throat, trying to hide the anxiety from his dearest sister who continued staring harshly at him. Ruby shook her head and turned away. Relief flooded over him.

"Only if you eat breakfast." He almost froze. Oh, no, he most certainly couldn't eat breakfast, he'd get fat and even worse, his masterpieces would stretch on his canvas. Ruby rolled her eyes and huffed. "It's only a bowl of cereal, mate, you'll be fine." He glanced at the window and it became apparent to him just how much time he had wasted. The sun was slowly peeking up over the horizon. "Hurry up, we have school." He sighed and followed his sister down the stairs, casting his gaze sullenly downwards as he did so.

"Good morning you two, you're up awful early." The French accent was undeniable. His father was awake and ready to serve them. "Which means you'll have plenty of time to eat breakfast." A smile formed on the Frenchman's face and he guided his children into the kitchen where he prepared the cereal of their choice for them. The three sat at the table, eating, and chatting. Part of him realized just how much he missed this time with his family while the other part reprimanded him, telling him that there were other times for his family.

"I'm full." Alfred mumbled and ascended the staircase, his red painted door came into view and he swallowed a lump in his throat. He carefully turned the door, trying to reduce the squeaking noise and let his brother sleep. When he came into the room he found it completely empty and gave a sigh. It wasn't a surprise to him to be completely honest, in fact, this was completely normal and it developed after his dear Matthew started dating some jerk from down the road. He never said anything to him about his own personal feelings towards the relationship but he was absolutely certain that Matthew was aware of his feelings since he avoided the topic around him and the rest of the family.

Alfred gave a sigh and made his way towards his closet where his school uniform was neatly hanging, waiting to be worn. _It's the last day, I can make it. _Of course he'd have to be as careful as possible seeing as both of his parents were his teachers and all the other ones were close friends with his parents. He gave a sigh as he stared at the tie that remained untied around his neck. He really didn't want to ask his mother, because it was kind of embarrassing.

With a sigh he resolved to go pester Jett who would be more than willing, if he paid him a bit, to tie it for him. With a begrudging sigh he exited his room, closing the door quietly behind him, and made the trek down the hallway to his older brother's room and tapped on the door, awaiting the answer. The door swung open and he was met by the cold accusing eyes of Jett. "You took it back." His blood ran cold and his throat went dry. "Christen said it was missing this morning, you have it, don't you?" His voice remained cold and accusing, but the concern still was evident in his voice.

"Alfred, you need to give it back, or I'm going to tell mom." It was Christen's voice this time. He wasted no time with turning and running down the stairs, quickly retrieving his bag and running out the front door. His feet carried him straight to the school and he heaved heavy breaths and stared up at the building looming in front of him. _Just avoid him, you'll be fine. _He scurried inside and resolved to have Mr. Edelstein tie it for him.

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><p>He was walking into eighth block when his father gave him the look and motioned him over, and right away he knew he was done for. "Come with me please." Francis grabbed his arm, shouting a command back at Nikolai, and dragged him down the hall and to his mother's office. "Before you go in, tell me now, do you take it back?" He didn't even try to play dumb, he just nodded numbly. Francis gave a sigh and pulled Alfred to his chest, whispering something in what Alfred believed to be Latin, but he wasn't quite sure. "Go on in, I have a class to teach." Francis planted a soft kiss on the top of his head before letting go and walking away.<p>

He sighed heavily and slowly turned the door knob. He entered the office and found his mother sitting at his desk staring at the desktop. His eyes darted up when he heard the door open and he shot to his feet and made his way across the office, enveloping his son in a tight, protective embrace. Alfred nearly burst into tears at the action and almost regretted his choice of grabbing his blade and starting up his old habits, almost being the key word. "Why?" Arthur sounded choked. "Was it something I did?"

"No." Alfred answered burying his face in his parent's shoulder, feeling small and weak. "It never was." He whispered fighting back his own tears as he tightly gripped the fabric of his mother's shirt.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself,angel, it's not healthy." Arthur ran ran his fingers through the younger male's hair, holding him tight, not ever wanting to let him go. "Look I know things have been stressful here recently with Dylan's upcoming marriage, but please, don't ever take it out on yourself," Arthur croaked. "Talk to me or your father, please, promise me that."

"I promise." Though deep down they both knew that was a lie.


End file.
